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"I gather you were referring to me."
"I was, sir," said the major defiantly.
"And why should I be sent to Coventry, or exchanged, may I ask?" Barry's
voice was that of an interested outsider.
"Because," stuttered the Major, "I consider, sir, that--that--you have
been guilty of a piece of damnable impertinence toward your Commanding
Officer. I never heard anything like it in my life. Infernal cheek, I
call it, sir."
While the major was speaking, Barry stood listening with an air of
respectful attention.
"I wonder!" he said, after a moment's thought. "If I thought I had been
impertinent, I should at once apologise. But, sir, do you think it is
part of my duty to allow any man, even my Commanding Officer, to--pardon
the disgusting metaphor, it is not so disgusting as the action
complained of--to spit in my soup, and take it without protest? Do you,
sir?"
"I--you--" The major grew very red in the face. "You need to learn your
place in this battalion, sir."
"I do," said Barry, still preserving his quiet voice and manner.


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